


Intense

by bluelionsordie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: "fuck" denial, ???? maybe teacher/student kink ????, Choking Kink, Daddy Kink, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pure Smut, Size Kink, Sylvain being a little squirmy squirm, Teasing, belly bump kink, figure out what that means by reading eyyyy, fuck what are tags, manakete dick is big I don't make the rules, setter technically isn't a teacher so idk, slight bdsm undertones, somewhat negotiated kinks, yeah there ya go good shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelionsordie/pseuds/bluelionsordie
Summary: Sylvain's plan was as follows:1.	Get sent to Seteth’s office.2.	Get Seteth to fuck him.And that was it. When Sylvain had told Felix his plan, the look the swordsman had given him could be described as nothing less than flabbergasted. Sylvain still wasn’t sure what had dumbfounded Felix more: that Sylvain thought this plan could work, or that literally anyone in the entire monastery actually wanted to get into Seteth’s robes.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Seteth
Comments: 18
Kudos: 277





	Intense

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry

The anticipating was killing him and that was all he could think about. Sylvain felt like a little kid again, waiting for his father to delve out a punishment befitting of child abuse, his hands shaking and his back breaking out in a cold sweat. He was in trouble, of course he was in trouble, being in trouble was the only way he would ever get sent into this forbidden room—Seteth’s office. 

It was a nice office. The colored window kept the room cool and dark and the old oak felt welcoming despite the dreary appearance it could have carried in harsher settings. The bookshelves held titles Sylvain would give anything to peruse, his eyes aching at the thought and failing to deter him from wanting to read the titles. The carpet beneath his feet felt plush. He wondered who cleaned Seteth’s office. He couldn’t see Seteth agreeing to Cyril cleaning, as Seteth seemed to be against child labor in general and always had a woeful expression when Cyril scrambled about him to mop up a stain or dust an alcove. That small hint into the human heart hiding beneath the monastery uniform was one of the reasons why Sylvain was stupid enough to be here, in this office, with his absolutely insane plan. It was shorter and simpler than most of his plans, too, which probably related to its idiocy. Two ingenuous steps to make his dream come true.

1\. Get sent to Seteth’s office.  
2\. Get Seteth to fuck him.

And that was it. When Sylvain had told Felix his plan, the look the swordsman had given him could be described as nothing less than flabbergasted. Sylvain still wasn’t sure what had dumbfounded Felix more: that Sylvain thought this plan could work, or that literally anyone in the entire monastery actually wanted to get into Seteth’s robes. For the former, Sylvain understand. For the later, well, Felix was a closeminded fool who hadn’t masturbated since he was, like thirteen, and believed he was better off for it. Absolutely insane if Sylvain was asked for his two cents on his best friend’s habits. Just nutty.

Sylvain was rambling in his thoughts from the nerves, a nervous tick that Felix said implied he would be a terrible lover, unable to focus on one thing for too long. Sylvain begged to differ but he couldn’t prove Felix otherwise without crossing a line with his friend that he was not willing to cross just yet. Not when he had his eyes on a certain man whose hard matched his eyes and cold gaze lit a fire in Sylvain’s loins, whose longer fingers had Sylvain’s body trembling with desire, whose deep voice plagued him in the night, whose subtle bulge in the front of his robes--

Goddess, Sylvain had it bad.

“I trust I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Speak of the Flame Emperor and they would appear—Seteth walked through the door and Sylvain’s knees felt a little weak. The older man narrowed his eyes at Sylvain as he walked around Sylvain and to his desk, leaving the faint smell of cedarwood behind himself. A surprising scent for a man who liked to fish. Sylvain bit his lip, trying to keep himself from just blurting out his need like a fool.

“I assume you know why you are here?”

“Whatever could you mean, sir?” Sylvain asked coyly, trying to play up the act of innocence, trying to see what would reel him the biggest catch he’d ever fought for. Fish puns, yes, he was halfway into Seteth’s bed already, he knew it.

Seteth stared at him. Sylvain blinked. Seteth sighed. “So, you are denying that you were caught setting Mercedes’s hair on fire whilst practicing your dark magic skills?”

Ah, Mercedes, an actual blessing to the world. Unlike Felix, she had tittered a sweet giggle and agreed to Sylvain’s outlandish scheme. She’d even chosen the lock of hair she wanted Sylvain to burn. “I need Annette to cut my hair anyways,” she’d told him. “I will lose nothing, and you will gain…” As she’d trailed off, her eyes had crossed the dining hall to land on Seteth speaking with his little sister. She’d been staring right at Seteth’s ass, unapologetic. Sylvain hoped to be as brave as her one day.

“I believe Professor Byleth recalls hearing you say, ‘it’s not like your hair is your best asset anyways.’” Seteth glared at him and Sylvain tried to keep his cock from hardening in his trousers. “That was inappropriate.”

Sylvain blinks again, laying on more innocence. “Setting her hair on fire or talking about her breasts?”

Seteth stares at him. “I cannot believe the words coming from your mouth.” He turns away. “I will be speaking with your professor to work on a long-term punishment for this behavior. You will be required to muck out the stables every day this week after dinners. And you will be writing me a twenty-inch paper on the social faux pas of your actions. After that, your future actions will determine the severity of future punishments.”

“I have a way for you to punish me,” Sylvain blurted out before he could think twice. When Seteth looked back to him, gaze sharp, Sylvain felt his heart begin to hammer. Seteth kept staring, waiting. Sylvain told himself that he wouldn’t be as brave as Mercedes one day—he would be as brave as her today.

“I have a way for you to punish me,” Sylvain repeated, voice wavering but his stance sure. When Seteth nodded for him to continue, Sylvain put all his eggs in one basket and said, “Fuck me like you hate me.”

Sylvain stopped breathing and the room fell into utter silence. Seteth stared into him and Sylvain had never felt so small. He regretted what he’d said, he regretted the bravery, and he regretted ever thinking of this stupid plan in the first place. How had he thought this would work out? How could he have believed he could go through with this unscathed? Seteth would never want him, because not only was it immoral to hell and back, but it was also hinging on the idea that anyone could want Sylvain at all. Goddess, Sylvain was insane, he was insane, he was stupid and insane, and Seteth was going to get him kicked out and Sylvain’s father would kill him and Dimitri would forbid him from being part of his court and—

“Contrary to your belief, I do not hate you.”

Sylvain realized he was looking at the floor and quickly yanked his gaze up. He breathed shakily through parted lips, unable to meet Seteth’s penetrating gaze. The man was looking at him in a way Sylvain couldn’t understand and there was a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard. “… I shouldn’t have said that.”

There was more silence. Then the muted thump of footsteps. “… On your knees, Sylvain.”

Sylvain really couldn’t breathe now. “What?”

There was a hand on the small of Sylvain’s back, warmer than he’d ever thought it could be, even through his uniform. “On your knees, Sylvain,” he repeated softly. “If you do not, then I will understand your wishes and allow you to leave. But if you truly want what you asked for, then get down on your knees for me.”

Sylvain trembled and wondered if Seteth felt it. He sunk to his knees and fisted his fingers in his trousers, cock twitching. He heard footsteps again and then Seteth was standing in front of him. That warm hand went into Sylvain’s hair and he let his lips fall open without prompting, ready and waiting. 

“It is a shame you spend so much time trying to convince the others you’re obtuse,” Seteth mused aloud. “When you are easily one of the most observant and intelligent people in this entire monastery.” Then Seteth was pulling his cock out and Sylvain moaned helplessly, mouth still wide. Seteth was huge, larger than any cock Sylvain had ever seen, larger than Dedue. Somewhere along ten inches, maybe more, curved upwards and wider in the middle, the head a gorgeous shape and the vein beneath making Sylvain’s mouth water. Sylvain had never wanted a cock as badly as he wanted Seteth’s monster splitting him open. “Keep your hands on your thighs or I pull out. If you want me to stop, punch the ground twice.”

Seteth pushed his cock into Sylvain’s mouth and Sylvain’s eyes fluttered shut as his senses were overwhelmed by the man above him. His cock was thick and stretching Sylvain’s lips, Sylvain struggling to keep his teeth out of the picture as he also struggled to take the first inch. Seteth’s hand tightened in his hair and held him still as the cock was fed down his throat. Sylvain swallowed down his gag reflex and whimpered, trying to lean forward and get more. The cock was heavy on his tongue, pinning it down and blocking Sylvain’s airway. He breathed erratically through his nose, hands still clenched in his lap, and tried to keep from cumming from the first shallow thrust of Seteth’s hips. 

“That’s a good boy,” Seteth purred, taking a steady pace that had Sylvain’s head bobbing without control, pushed back by the thrust of Seteth’s long cock, drooling down his chin. He lathed his tongue across the shaft and tried to create some suction, but he could barely get his lips to seal with how thick Seteth was. He gagged only once and his cock spurted precum in his pants. It was all too much and he loved it. 

“Take it slow,” Seteth coached gently, threading both hands into Sylvain’s hair and holding him still. “Open your eyes—look at me.”

Sylvain whimpered and lifted his eyes to Seteth and choked again, having to tear his hands from his lap to clutch at his crotch, wrapping his hands tight around his own erection to stave off his orgasm.

“What did I say about moving your hands?” Seteth asked, voice low and gravelly. “Do you want me to stop?”

Sylvain practically wailed around Seteth’s cock, probably a sorry sight, spit down his chin, eyes tearing up, pants tight and visibly stained with his arousal. He bet he looked pathetic, and it was what he wanted, what he knew he needed. He hoped Seteth wanted it too. Sylvain laid his hands back down on his thighs, tasting Seteth’s essence trailing down his throat. He whimpered again and thrusted his hips brokenly into nothing, fighting to keep his body under control. “What did I tell you would happen, Sylvain?”

Sylvain tried to beg with his eyes alone, needing Seteth to continue, needing to be used up and pushed around and owned. He pulled back and suckled on the head, tonguing the slit and reveling in the soft noise of enjoyment Seteth made. He opened his eyes again, looking up at the man, pleading for Seteth to understand that he was doing his best to be good. 

And Seteth—what a gorgeous sight. That pale face flushed from the ears to the tip of the nose, that graceful brow furrowed, and lips parted with sighs of pleasure. He was arguably the most handsome man Sylvain had ever seen and he was so happy he was already on the floor, because his knees would have given out if he’d seen this for the first time while standing. He slid slowly down the shaft, miraculously sinking down the entire length, and took the head down his throat, pressing his nose to the soft curls at the base of Seteth’s cock and swallowed. 

The hands in his hair yanked him off the cock, Sylvain left gasping, a trail of saliva connecting his lips to the red, engorged head of Seteth’s erection. He leaned in immediately, eager to have that back down his throat, but the hands in his hair held him back, and then one of Seteth’s hand was wrapped around the base of Seteth’s throbbing cock, the man breathing slowly. Sylvain grinned slowly, lips swollen and slick, realizing Seteth was no better off than him. He made a show of licking his lips and leaned in slower, rasping, “Am I doing good?” and pressing a kiss to the tip.

Seteth yanked him further away and took a step back, holding his cock tight and glaring down at Sylvain. “Get on the desk.”

Sylvain wobbled to his feet, coltish legs barely able to support him. “Pants off,” Seteth ordered, and Sylvain had to stop and brace himself on the desk, a wave of arousal crashing over him. His eyes were squeezed his eyes shut and he was cursing his sudden prepubescent tendencies when a hand reached around his front and undid the front of Sylvain’s trousers. 

“Oh goddess,” Sylvain choked out as Seteth pushed down his pants and let them pool on the floor. His hard cock sprang up from beneath the folds of his shirt and leaked profusely at the tip, his length dwarfing in comparison to Seteth’s beast of an erection, that thick cock hanging heavy Seteth’s legs, running hot enough for Sylvain to feel between the inch separating their bodies. Seteth hummed softly from over his shoulder, his chest pressed to Sylvain’s back. His cock pressed itself to Sylvain’s hole and the underside of his balls and shaft, inches longer than Sylvain’s as it hung between Sylvain’s legs.

“I don’t want the goddess seeing you,” Seteth said softly, hands flat on Sylvain’s hips, staring at Sylvain’s cock above his own like he was conducting an experiment. “I don’t want the goddess seeing this.”

Sylvain choked on a ragged noise and leaned back into Seteth, wondering if it was okay to be accepting such affection—if it even was that for Seteth—wondering if he was allowed to enjoy this. Seteth’s breath ghosted his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Seteth’s hands slid down his thighs and blunt nails dug into the skin, dragging up the muscles. Sylvain’s breath caught and Seteth hummed, maybe in approval. “Get on the desk. On your back.”

Sylvain dropped onto the desk, face down, wanting to submit and give Seteth what he wanted, wanting more praise, wanting to hear that he was actually good at something, anything, wanting to be—

“Not like this—pay attention.”

The hands were back on his hips and then Sylvain was flipped carefully onto his back. Sylvain looked up at Seteth, eyes wide in confusion, wondering why this was what he preferred. He bit his lip, wanting to ask but unsure if he could. Seteth soothed his hand down Sylvain’s thigh and then beneath his shirt, pressing into his stomach. “You’re allowed to speak—you’re not my prisoner.”

“Will you fuck me?”

Seteth snorted a laugh and Sylvain loved the sound. “Despite going against my instructions, you were very, very good, Sylvain,” he praised, keeping his voice low and intimate as he strokes Sylvain’s stomach. “Unfortunately, you did proposition this to me as a punishment. I will have to find a way to make this something… punitive.”

Sylvain shuddered hard at the word and his cock leaked to drip onto Seteth’s wrist. Seteth hummed again. “Though I suppose there’s no way to give you anything you wouldn’t enjoy, is there?”

“Please,” Sylvain breathed, sounding desperate and knowing it. “Sir, I—”

“Unless it directly arouses you, please use my name.”

Sylvain’s hands shot down to grab at his cock again, hips hitching as he barely kept from cumming. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry. Goddess.”

Seteth smirked and dragged his hand down Sylvain’s stomach to his thighs and then beneath, curling around Sylvain’s right cheek, squeezing the malleable flesh. Sylvain whimpered and turned his face into the desk, the cool wood doing little for his feverishly heated skin. Then the fingers snuck in a little deeper, pushing between the cheeks, seeking out—

The hands stilled and Seteth let out another inscrutable hum. “Should I question the validity of Mercedes’s complaint of your actions?”

Sylvain squirmed a little beneath him, wondering why he had stopped moving and asked that so suddenly. “Sir?”

Seteth stares into him. “You’re wet, Sylvain.” He then pushed two fingers into Sylvain’s, easily penetrating and dipping inside.

Sylvain’s hands left his cock to cover his mouth, embarrassed by the squeak that left him as his body sung with shocked pleasure, not expecting Seteth to just push in like that. The fingers are thicker than his own and squelching with the oil Sylvain had used to prepare himself, foolishly hoping for a best-case scenario that had miraculously come to fruition. “I-I wanted to be ready for you,” he barely managed to get out. “If you had wanted me—if you somehow wanted me, I wanted you to take me before you realized you didn’t want me any longer.”

“For the smartest student I’ve seen at this academy, you are incorrectly valuing yourself.” Seteth punctuated his words with a shallow thrust of his fingers, opening Sylvain up a little wider with a spread. Sylvain moaned weakly, thighs shaking around Seteth’s arm. “Relax,” Seteth soothed. “I’m not really inside you yet.”

“Oh fuck, please,” Sylvain burst out, humiliating and needy. “I’ve waited so long, I need—”

“You need what?” Seteth interrupted as he started to thrust slowly, torturing Sylvain. “You need my cock?” As Sylvain nodded furtively, Seteth sped up, moving his wrist with more purpose, pushing deeper with each inward motion. “I’m not sure if you deserve it—this is a punishment, after all.”

“Mercedes said I could—ah!” Sylvain cut off into a cry as Seteth expertly thrust into his prostate. He gripped the desk, nails digging into the wood, hoping he would leave a mark, gouges in the desk that Seteth would see and remember. “She said I could, she said I could! I-I got permission!”

“But you also lied to me,” Seteth said coolly as he fucked Sylvain on his fingers. “I am unsure if you are deserving of being given what you want, clever as you have proven yourself to be.” He hummed for what felt like the thousandth time as he ground into Sylvain’s prostate, sending stars shooting behind Sylvain’s eyes as he arched off the table and cried out like a whore. “You react beautifully—I’m pleasantly surprised by how sensitive of a lover you are.”

“I wanna be good for you,” Sylvain fought to get out, gasping wetly as he tried to fuck himself down on those long, skillful fingers. “I wanna be everything you ever wanted and more, I wanna get fucked until I scream, I wanna be filled with your cum, I wanna be the best you’ve ever had, Sir, please, please, give it to me before I--”

Sylvain cut himself off as a third finger slid inside, arching deeper and pressing into that spot so perfectly that he saw stars. He nearly bit through his tongue with the pleasure, arching off the table like a bow, trying to spread his legs wider, feeling for all the world like a cheap whore and loving it. Seteth let out a soft noise of exasperation and suddenly those fingers were gone. “I’ve worked out your punishment,” he told Sylvain calmly as he held his huge cock and rested it against the hot skin of Sylvain’s inner thigh, sending Sylvain into near palpitations, taking Sylvain’s legs and hooking his ankles over Seteth’s shoulders. That cock then rested on his pelvis and Sylvain looked down to see just how deep Seteth would penetrate. The cock was nearly at his belly button and Sylvain’s cock spurted precum again up his hip. “Bear down, Sylvain.”

Sylvain could have sobbed in relief in Seteth slowly pushed inside. It felt like so much more than he could have ever predicted, more than he could have hoped for, his body splitting open to receive Seteth and his body burning. Sylvain clawed at the desk, gasping for breath as Seteth opened him up with his girth, the man not stopping until he bottomed out. 

“Oh fuck!” Sylvain shouted, feeling every inch of Seteth, fucked so impossibly deep. Seteth was reaching places no one else had ever touched, so deep in his guts that Sylvain felt full in a way he never had before. His trembling hands fumbled down and pressed into his stomach, letting out a wretched moan that died into a sob as he realized he could feel the head of Seteth’s cock through the bump in his stomach. Seteth made a soft noise of encouragement as Sylvain struggled to adjust, those huge hands petting his stomach, running over the bump that made Sylvain’s cock an endless stream of precum, his mind overwhelmed by the idea of being bred like this, bred by Seteth’s inhuman cock.

With Seteth pressed all the way inside, Sylvain felt like he could finally check this off as a mission accomplished. He clenched around Seteth’s cock, frayed thoughts localizing and focusing on this one thing, this one sensation, this one beautiful stretch of his body that he’d wanted for so long and was finally receiving. Never again could he tell himself he was unlucky. Seteth was inside him and it was like every single dirty dream Sylvain had ever suffered was coming true. He felt Seteth shift and that cock pressed even deeper. It felt like dying and Sylvain wanted this to go on forever.

He nodded after a few long moments, breathing carefully, grateful Seteth had kept still. “Okay,” he whispered, nodding a little more. “Okay—I’m ready. Y-you can move.”

Seteth didn’t move. Sylvain opened his eyes, blinking past the haze of pleasure, and reached out to pull at Seteth’s hips. “Hey, didn’t you hear me, old man? You can move.”

Seteth stared down at him, cool as ice, buried to the hilt, a bump in Sylvain’s stomach, the curve of that huge length pressing against that spot without Seteth having to move, and still not moving an inch. Sylvain swallowed thickly, brow knitting, sweat dripping past his brow as every muscle in his body slowly began to wind tight, anticipating the pounding of Seteth’s hips that never came. “S-Sir?” he asked, wetting his lips, thighs trembling. It felt so fucking good, so fucking deep, and yet it wasn’t enough. “I-i-is something wrong?”

“You tricked me,” Seteth replied softly. “This is your punishment.”

Dread sank into Sylvain even as excitement shot his pulse into the stratosphere. “No,” he mumbled uselessly, reaching up to paw at Seteth’s chest. “N-no, no, you can’t do this, you need to--”

Seteth’s hand shot from Sylvain’s thigh to wrap around his neck, pinning him back to the desk with a light squeeze of his throat. Sylvain sobbed in desperation and ecstasy, the barely-there constriction of his throat being something he never knew he wanted, especially from Seteth’s huge hands. He scrabbled at the desk, trying to fuck down on Seteth’s cock even as Seteth’s other hand pinned his hips, immobilizing him. “You can’t,” Sylvain choked out, shaking from head to toe as pleasure pulsed through his body, cock throbbing, Seteth’s arousal digging into his prostate without any movement, Sylvain unable to look away from the head that pushed out from his stomach. “Goddess, goddess, help me, Sir, y-you can’t—”

“You manipulated me,” Seteth said coolly as he carefully pinched his thumb and forefinger together, not choking Sylvain but squeezing his larynx, stifling the airflow just enough to make Sylain see stars. “You tried to outsmart me to get my cock. Now you have it, and you still have the gall to beg for more?”

“Seteth,” Sylvain babbled, voice raspy and barely audible, his hips jerking brokenly now. The shaft was bruising his special spot and every throb of Seteth’s cock pulsed into Sylvain’s prostate, he couldn’t fucking breathe, his cock was leaking like a faucet onto his belly, his nails digging crescents into the wood, he couldn’t even see, he was so close—“Seteth—”

“You have a choice,” Seteth murmured, bending low, his hair falling about Sylvain’s face, tresses caressing his skin like the softest of kisses. Seteth’s lips brushed his and Sylvain sobbed again, trying to lift his head and connect, but unable to overpower the hand at his throat. “You have a choice,” Seteth whispered above him. “Will you continue this behavior, goading me into giving you attention, distracting your fellow students and distracting me? Or will you be a good boy and understand my attention can come in different ways, through excelling, through care, through connection. Will you be a good boy and let me give you what you want without you ruining your future? Will you be good for me, Sylvain?”

Sylvain wailed with wanton need, so close even with Seteth’s cock infuriatingly still. “I will, I will,” he gasped, spit between his lips making his words and breath wet. “I’ll be good, I’ll be your good boy, I’ll do anything, Seteth, just please, please, I-I beg, please, give it to me, give me your cock, give me to me so good, I need, I need—” He trailed off, eyes slipping into the back of his head as Seteth’s grip around his neck tightened incrementally. “Let me cum, let me cum, let me cum,” he pleaded, body drenched with arousal and sweat, his insides trembling around Seteth’s cock, so close, so fucking close, if Seteth would just—

“You’ll be good for me?” Seteth asked again, to which Sylvain threw his hips up and just cried out, “yes!” tears streaming down his face. Seteth grinned and dipped his head, kissing Sylvain and whispering, “Then cum for me,” into Sylvain. 

Sylvain couldn’t hold it back any longer, his entire body seizing like he was dying as his cum shot up his chest, catching underneath Seteth’s hand and his chin as he writhed through the orgasm, humiliating sounds tumbling past his lips. It went on for what felt like hours, ravaging Sylvain’s senses, sending him careening into the heavens and crashing back down into his body with a broken sob, chest heaving as the hedonism sang in his veins. And as he came back to himself, he realized Seteth was finally moving, fucking Sylvain up the desk with sharp, measured thrusts.

“Seteth,” Sylvain babbled, reaching up with weak arms to claw at Seteth’s chest, wishing he was naked so Sylvain could see all of that glorious skin, his post-orgasm haze making him needy and pliant, squirming on the desk as he was fucked hard. He lurched up the wood with each thrust, his gasps hitching into high pitched squeaks and squeals in tandem, the bump in his stomach reappearing with each thrust, impossible to ignore. Seteth grunted and took Sylvain’s legs, pushing them up so Sylvain’s knees were to his ears. Sylvain wailed again, looking down his ruined, cum-stained, flushed body to where Seteth’s cock disappears inside him, stomach and thighs jiggling with the power of the thrusts. “Seteth, S-Seteth, daddy, you’re so big, please, c-cum inside me, fill me up, make me yours, cum in me, cum in me, cum—”

Seteth shoved two oil-slick fingers into Sylvain’s mouth, pushing them past Sylvain’s throat, choking him and sending Sylvain reeling again with his muscles contracting and writhing through a second orgasm as Seteth’s seed suddenly coated his insides, washing him over with warmth and filth, Sylvain drooling around the fingers as Seteth pumped his cum into Sylvain and then stilled, laboring for breath just as badly as Sylvain. Seteth towered above him, fingers still down Sylvain’s throat, petting his tongue and making a mess of Sylvain’s mouth. 

Then Seteth pulled his fingers out, and then his cock. Sylvain whimpered as he felt Seteth’s cum ooze from his hole and drip down his ass. He quickly reached down and pressed two fingers inside himself, wanting to plug himself up and keep Seteth’s seed inside. He heard Seteth chuckle above him and his cheeks burned with shame and desire. 

“Well done,” Seteth suddenly praised, running a hand through his hair. “You were very good for me, Sylvain. Now get dressed and get yourself ready.”

Sylvain, bleary and exhausted and fucked raw, looked up at Seteth with questioning, hazy eyes. “Get ready for what, Sir?”

Seteth hummed and stroked his jaw. “I think I preferred daddy.”

Sylvain’s head thunked against the table as Seteth’s words threatened to make him cum a third time. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Get ready for what, d-daddy?”

“Not only did you manipulate me, but you risked the wellbeing of another student for your own sexual gain,” Seteth hummed, hand going from Sylvain’s hair to his jaw to almost pet him. Sylvain purred even as trepidation ran through his tired bones alongside a sensation of exhilaration. “I’m not done with you yet. Be a good boy and be ready for me.” Seteth paused, as if deep in thought. “Have you ever had the cum of your lover eaten out of your hole, Sylvain?”

Sylvain whimpered and shut his eyes and grinned. His plan had worked. He couldn’t be happier. He took in a deep breath, clenched tight around his fingers and knew he could take that monster cock again, and nodded. “Anything for you, daddy,” he whispered, making Seteth moan softly and making Sylvain feel untouchable.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just so sorry


End file.
